48: Chapter 48 Melting Ice into Tender Water

Night had fallen.

Night in the wilderness arrived quickly. After the last sliver of golden twilight vanished over the Lingxi River, the starry sky unfurled like a vast piece of black velvet.

Countless stars, like scattered diamonds, twinkled in the firmament with a cold, profound radiance.

Moonlight cascaded from the firmament like a silver waterfall, shrouding the entire Bright Tribe in a hazy, silver-blue glow.

Wang Sheng stood before the Chiefs Tent, watching the silver-blue light of the Moonlight Blessing rise slowly from the Ancestral Spirit Altar.

Shen Xun'er was casting her spell, her moon-white ritual robes shimmering like silver armor in the moonlight.

Her raven-black hair cascaded like a waterfall, drifting in the flow of spiritual energy, while the moonlight swirled within her moist, almond-shaped eyes, resembling two stars gently lit from within.

Sensing Wang Sheng's gaze, she nodded slightly at him. The arc of that nod held an unspoken understanding and tolerance, as if the moonlight embraced all things.

Wang Sheng returned the smile.

He then turned and walked toward the ice-blue tent on the north side of the camp.

Outside the tent flap, silver frost flowers resembled tiny diamonds in the moonlight, refracting a cold, enchanting light.

Inside the tent, pale blue ice crystals had congealed, making it feel as though one had stepped into an ice palace. The ice walls, the ice platform, the ice flowers—

every detail was as exquisite as a work of art, a personal space that the Frost Mage had painstakingly congealed with her spiritual energy.

Frost Mage Lin Shiyun stood in the center of the tent.

She had already changed out of her daytime mage robes, replacing them with a silk nightgown the color of ice-blue.

The fabric of the nightgown was thinner and more form-fitting than her mage robes, clinging to her tall, slender figure like a second skin.

Her slender waist, reminiscent of a willow branch, was outlined by the silk nightgown like a silver ribbon soaked in moonlight; its curves, barely a handful, shimmered with a cold, breathtaking luster in the moonlight.

The curves above her waistline were full and rounded, like snow-covered mountains, every undulation beneath the silk nightgown appearing as a painting traced by moonlight, breathtakingly beautiful.

Her long legs were visible through the slit in the hem of her nightgown, her jade-white skin set off by the ice-blue fabric, appearing like white jade bathed in moonlight; every step she took carried the cold, unique elegance of a Frost Mage.

Her silver-white hair was not tied up, cascading from her shoulders to her waist like a waterfall made of moonlight, resembling a flowing galaxy against the backdrop of her ice-blue nightgown.

Her ice-blue pupils were like two ice lakes lit by starlight in the moonlight, no longer holding the cold, frosty aloofness,

but rather the clarity and tenderness of an ice lake that had finally thawed to reflect the entire sky.

"Why have you come again?" Her voice still carried a hint of haughtiness,

but that haughtiness was no longer an ice wall pushing people away; it was a habitual cuteness, like a kitten with its fur standing on end.

Though her lips said, "Why have you come again?", her fingers were unconsciously twisting the hem of her nightgown—a sign of her nervousness.

"I came to find you." Wang Sheng walked into the tent, and the tent flap fell behind him, shutting out the moonlight and the clamor of the camp.

Inside the tent, there was only the faint glimmer of spiritual energy and the crisp, snow-like scent of the Frost Mage.

"Didn't we already..." Frost Mage Lin Shiyun turned her head away, her silver-white hair drifting like snow in the moonlight. The crimson on her ears had not yet fully faded,

and now it began to spread at a visible rate. "Didn't we already make things clear? You, you don't need to..."

"We made things clear during the day." Wang Sheng walked up to her. The moonlight shone in through the gap in the tent flap, casting a silver-blue outline behind him.

"But there are some things that cannot be finished during the day."

Frost Mage Lin Shiyun's breathing quickened slightly. The Frost Mage's heartbeat was exceptionally clear in the quiet tent, like drumbeats echoing across an ice surface—thump, thump, faster and faster.

She took a step back, her back hitting the ice platform; there was nowhere left to retreat.

"You,"

Wang Sheng reached out, his fingertips gently lifting her chin as if holding a snowflake, his touch so light as if he feared breaking something.

The Frost Mage's face in the moonlight was like a rose covered in snow and ice, coldly and breathtakingly beautiful.

Her ice-blue pupils were inches away, like two ice lakes lit by moonlight; in the depths of her pupils was an interweaving of cold light and warmth, like a warm current surging beneath an ice surface.

Her pale pink lips parted slightly, like rose petals covered in frost and snow—soft, fragile, and glistening with the moisture of morning dew.

Her skin was as cold as jade, as if moonlight had congealed into flesh, so fair it was nearly transparent, shimmering with a cold luster in the moonlight.

But under the touch of his fingertips, that cold skin began to warm up bit by bit, as if the warm current beneath the ice had finally found a breakthrough.

The temperature spread from his fingertips to her chin, then from her chin to her ears, and then from her ears to her entire face.

"Wang Sheng..." Her voice was hoarse and low, like the final sigh before the ice surface cracks.

"Shiyun." His voice was very soft, so soft that only the two of them could hear it, but that softness was not hesitation,

but a gentleness and certainty, like moonlight shining on an ice surface. "You don't need to be afraid."

"I am not afraid. A Frost Mage does not fear."

"Then why are you trembling?"

Frost Mage Lin Shiyun closed her eyes, her long, silver-white eyelashes like two new moons, resembling a pair of butterfly wings covered in frost and snow in the moonlight.

She was indeed trembling, not because of the cold, not because of fear, but because of an emotional impact she had never experienced before—like the shattering of an ice surface.

The ice wall of four years had shattered completely, and the real Frost Mage Lin Shiyun revealed after the ice wall shattered was so fragile that even she herself was afraid.

But she also knew,

she did not want to rebuild that ice wall again.

It was not that she couldn't; it was that she didn't want to.

Ice turns to water.

It was only a matter of time.

And now, the time had come.

"Wang Sheng," she opened her eyes, the moonlight swirling in her ice-blue pupils like two stars gently lit from within,

"If... if you dare to treat me badly, I will freeze you into an ice sculpture and place you at the camp entrance as a gate guardian."

Wang Sheng smiled, a smile resembling the warm winter sun, surging from his chest and blooming at the corners of his lips.

"Very well, a gate guardian it is."

Then he lowered his head,

and his lips pressed against hers.

It was cold, as if kissing a snowflake.

The Frost Mage's lips were as cold as frost, like petals bathed in moonlight during winter, carrying a trace of crisp chill and the faint lingering warmth of spiritual energy.

But that snowflake quickly warmed beneath his lips, as if a flower had bloomed on the ice, like a sun rising over a snowfield.

Frost Mage Lin Shiyun's body stiffened for a moment, and then, like ice turning to water, her whole body slowly and irreversibly softened.

Her hands hesitated for a second—only a second—before she suddenly wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers digging into his hair with enough force as if she were clutching the last piece of driftwood in the whole world.

Her silver-white hair scattered like snow over his shoulders and chest, resembling flowing moonlight.

The Frost Mage's scent was as crisp as snow, mixed with the faint glimmer of moonlight and spiritual energy, like the purest air in winter.

But at this moment, her breathing was quick and scalding, like magma surging beneath the ice, steaming into a faint mist in the moonlight.

Her lips responded clumsily and unskillfully; the Frost Mage was clearly inexperienced, her rhythm of response completely chaotic.

But that clumsiness itself was like the most genuine confession; she was not acting, not just going along with it,

but using all her courage and sincerity to make the boldest decision of her life.

Moonlight spilled in through the gap in the tent flap like a silver waterfall pouring over the two of them as they embraced.

It cast the shadow of their intertwined silver-white and raven-black hair onto the ice wall, resembling a painting bathed in moonlight.

The frost flowers on the ice wall slowly melted in the moonlight—not shattering,

but melting like snow under the warm spring sun, bit by bit, gently, irreversibly, from ice turning to water.

Droplets of water slid down the ice wall, like the second round of tears shed by the Frost Mage.

They were not tears of sadness, but tears of relief—tears of no longer needing to pretend, tears of ice turning into water.

Low moans rising and falling, along with intoxicating, delicate gasps, continuously emanated from that bare, soft, beautiful body, filled with lingering affection and intertwined sweetness.

Who knows how much time had passed.

The moonlight inside the tent had shifted from silver-blue to a warm yellow; the spiritual fire light cast warm shadows on the ice walls, like flames dancing in a winter fireplace.

The Frost Mage's tent was, for the first time, no longer as cold as an ice cellar—not because she had retracted her frost spiritual energy, but because another kind of temperature was spreading from the center of the tent to the surroundings.

The alluring, delicate gasps drifted into the distance, wave after wave.